


Glow-stars I thru III

by thebasement_archivist



Category: The X-Files
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2002-06-03
Updated: 2002-06-03
Packaged: 2018-11-21 00:04:18
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 6,687
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/11345901
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/thebasement_archivist/pseuds/thebasement_archivist
Summary: Note from alice ttlg, the archivist: this story was originally archived atThe Basement, which moved to the AO3 to ensure the stories are always available and so that authors may have complete control of their own works. To preserve the archive, I began manually importing its works to the AO3 as an Open Doors-approved project in June 2017. I e-mailed all creators about the move and posted announcements, but may not have reached everyone. If you are (or know) this creator, please contact me using the e-mail address onThe Basement's collection profile.





	Glow-stars I thru III

**Author's Note:**

> Note from alice ttlg, the archivist: this story was originally archived at [The Basement](http://fanlore.org/wiki/The_Basement), which moved to the AO3 to ensure the stories are always available and so that authors may have complete control of their own works. To preserve the archive, I began manually importing its works to the AO3 as an Open Doors-approved project in June 2017. I e-mailed all creators about the move and posted announcements, but may not have reached everyone. If you are (or know) this creator, please contact me using the e-mail address on [The Basement's collection profile](http://archiveofourown.org/collections/thebasement/profile).

Glow-stars I thru III

## Glow-stars I thru III

#### by Beth

Disclaimer: They're not mine, and neither is "the beach". But wouldn't combining the two be fun? This is the passage that inspired the following story. It's kind of an irrelevant passage in a great book, but I love it for no other reason than it makes me happy. "There are one hundred glow-stars on my bedroom ceiling. I've got crescent moons, gibbous moons, planets with Saturn's rings, accurate constellations, meteor showers, and a whirlpool galaxy with a flying saucer caught in its tail. They were given to me by a girlfriend who was surprised that I often lay awake after she went to sleep. She discovered it one night when she woke to go to the bathroom, and bought me the glow-stars the next day. Glow-stars are strange. They make the ceiling disappear." Alex Garland: The Beach.   
Many thank to Ursula for quick beta and an interesting idea... Oh, and fuck canon. Alex has two arms. Feedback to . Please? 

* * *

Glow-stars   
Part I  
by Beth 

I'd forgotten about the film. It lay unnoticed in my camera for a year. I could only guess that Scully stumbled across it and sent it off to be developed. 

I was almost happy again. Not the gut-wrenching happiness that's so good it almost hurts, the kind where you can't wipe the stupid smile off your face and you feel that you could take anything they care to throw at you. Just the average, run-of-the-mill, for-once-I'm-not-unhappy type of happiness. It no longer hurt me to walk through the door of my apartment and find it empty. I hadn't forgotten- I don't think I ever would have forgotten- but I didn't have him at the front of my mind 24 hours a day. I didn't dream of him every night. I thought I was beginning to cope. 

I was wrong. 

When I opened the envelope... God, it was like I'd been punched in the gut. He hated having his picture taken... but that once I'd caught him off guard and he was smiling at the camera. Except he wasn't. He was smiling through the camera. He was smiling at me. And the look in his eyes... was it my fault that I thought it would last forever? I wanted it to last forever. 

I think maybe I loved him. 

Hell. I know I loved him- still do. I believed that he loved me too, but it turns out I wasn't as important to him as I'd allowed him to become to me. Trust no one. But I trusted him, enough to put my soul in his hands and watch as he turned away. He hurt me so much that I didn't I didn't think I could survive it. I hated him for doing that to me. But I knew, even through my hatred, that the second he turned back I would welcome him with open arms. 

I flipped through the rest of the photos, pausing a couple of times, each new image sending a fresh jolt of pain through me... and then I came to the last picture, and the pain and misery were so overwhelming that I couldn't see, couldn't hear, could only feel as my body was wracked with the sobs I'd been holding in for the year he'd been gone. 

And it was just a picture of the stars. 

"Where are we going?" 

"Shh... just trust me." The heat of his voice surrounds me and almost allows me to forget about the silk scarf covering my eyes, the fact that I am trusting myself to someone who betrayed me, killed my father, worked with the men who were bent on destroying me... helped me, kissed me... the man I love. But as I stumble and almost fall at some unseen obstacle, his arms around me, his instant protection of me reminds me why I believe in him. 

Cold air blows in my face and I wonder where we are that requires such a long drive. My mind automatically tried to track the route from the turns we took, but it wasn't long before I was hopelessly lost. We could be back at the apartment for all I know. Except for the scent of fresh cut grass, and flowers, and summer evenings... 

But it doesn't matter where we are. Because as long as he's in front of me and I can feel his strong fingers linked with mine, I have everything I need. Everything I'll ever need. This past month I've been so happy... I'm so scared that it won't last. Why would it? I'm me, and he's him, and there's no possible reason to believe that it will have a chance of success. Except that, even though we haven't said anything... well, I know how I feel. And the expression in his eyes sometimes makes me wonder. 

He lays me down and I can feel that there is tall grass surrounding us. It's a warm night, and I can hear bats squeaking overhead and can smell the flowers that must only just have closed. And after a moment I can feel him as he lays down beside me and tenderly brushes the hair away from my forehead, can feel his breath fanning across my face as he leans in to kiss me. And I blindly respond, trying to tell him with my body what my eyes can't. But he won't let me take control- and frustrated as I am, part of me is glad of that. He forces my hands down beside me as I lay listening to his ragged breathing calm, feeling his trembling hands slowly still. And no matter how much I wish he would just rip my clothes off and slam into me I know that this is his moment. So I wait. 

He gently touches my face. 

And we've touched before. We can barely keep our hands off each other. And yet this is almost more erotic than anything he's ever done to me- these feather-light touches that softly map my face, passing over my lips again and again, until he replaces his fingers with his mouth. And his kiss is so tender that I want to cry. I get the overwhelming feeling that this is it. That he's saying goodbye. 

And suddenly I need to see him, need to hear his voice, before something comes and rips him away from me. 

I reach up and tear the blindfold away from my eyes, in the last second dreading that when I open them I'll be alone... but I calm as soon as I see green eyes dyed silver by the moon, dappled light falling on a perfect body. 

He starts to undress me, and every inch of skin that is revealed is thoroughly explored by fingers and mouth until finally I am naked and trembling so hard that I feel like I'll fall apart- not to mention more turned on than I have ever been in my life. 

nd then he swoops down and bites my nipple. And I cry out at the unbelievable sensations this produces in me. He plays with it for a while, nipping and licking and sucking the sensitive flesh, before moving on to the other one. I am incoherent as he moves lower... I hear the sounds coming from my mouth but I am distanced from them, focussed completely inward on the feelings he is arousing in me. 

And then all the breath leaves my lungs as his tongue touches my cock. He gently flutters his tongue along the vein on the underside before taking the head into his mouth. God... I can't contain my moan as his warmth deserts me, and it's all I can do not to grab his head and force it back to where it was. But this is his moment. And I satisfy myself with running my hands through his hair as he lets me taste myself in his mouth. 

And words are no longer necessary. He prepares my cock and sinks down slowly on it, the look of pure bliss on his face transfixing me with its feral beauty. 

And then all thoughts are driven from my head as he slowly starts to move. The tight velvet heat gripping me and the sound of his moans as my cock hits his prostate combine to bring me to the brink of orgasm- but I hold it off as I pump his cock, wanting him to share this moment with me. 

then his muscles contract and we tumble over the edge together. And as he collapses onto my chest, I stare up at the beautiful stars that he brought me so far from the city lights to see, and I tell him that I love him. But I don't know if he hears me. 

The crying fit left me with a dull but insistent throbbing in my head and eyes that felt like someone had rubbed grit in them. And I felt so completely hopeless, because if this one simple memory could tear me apart like this then how could I ever forget him? I don't want to forget him. I wish that I didn't have to. 

I woke up on the couch this morning and dragged myself into work; feeling (and judging by Scully's reaction, looking) like hell. She tried to send me home, but the thought of the silence that fills my apartment... I insisted on staying, even working late to delay the inevitable. 

She denied all knowledge of the film. 

And as I walked into my apartment I got the strongest feeling that someone had been there. You'd think, with the number of times my apartment had been broken into, I'd be used to it by now. I should leave the door open to prevent damage. 

But if someone had been there, they'd been good at their job. There was no physical evidence of their presence, just a feeling that until recently the space had been filled. That maybe if I'd returned five minutes earlier, I would have caught them. Caught him. 

I got out my gun and searched the apartment, checking out the small amount of possible hiding places with something like hope... until I realised what I was doing. 

And I collapsed onto my bed, the headache returned with renewed intensity as I berated myself for what I was thinking. It wasn't him. It wasn't anything but my hyperactive imagination projecting my insane wishes. I put my hand over my eyes and fumbled for the lamp, hoping that the darkness would make my headache lessen. 

And now I lay on my back, my headache gone, and stare up at the glow-stars that newly cover my ceiling, and consider that maybe I don't have to forget anything. That maybe I can be happy again. 

* * *

* * *

Disclaimer: They're not mine. And I have no money. So there. Please remember that I love them both too much to do any permanent damage, okay? Major thanks due to Ursula for fantastically speedy beta, and thanks to all the people who wrote to me asking for more. Feedback: . You know you want to... By the way, my dad has voluntarily eaten the sandwiches. :) 

* * *

Glow-stars: Part II   
Roses  
by Beth 

The next night, the night after I'd lain awake watching as the glow-stars gradually faded to nothing, you left me roses. A bunch in a vase on the coffee table, and a single flower each on the couch and the bed. Red roses mean love, Alex. I guess you didn't know that. if you had... would I be wrong in thinking your choice would have been different? 

See, I did a lot of thinking. As I lay on my back, watching the galaxy you brought me slowly disappear, I let myself think of you. More than I have for the whole year you've been gone. And it hurt- Goddamn it, it hurt- but I needed the pain. And I tried not to let myself believe that the pain was cancelled out by the memory of your smile. 

I'm standing in the kitchen, making my lunch, when a hand snakes past me to grab one of the sandwiches I've just prepared. He grins at me unrepentantly from the other side of the kitchen... then quirks an eyebrow when all i do is smile back. Every previous time he's tried this, I've at least made a token effort to retrieve my lunch. 

And I can't stop myself from cracking up as he spits his mouthful all over the clean floor. He'll have to pay for that later... 

"What is this shit?" he warily lifts the top slice of bread. "Peach and celery? You weren't seriously going to eat..." He slows and stops as he sees my face, then covers the space between us with a growl. I am trapped between my lover and the worktop, and his proximity is playing havoc with my breathing. I try to look repentant, and I bite my lip... until he finds a better use for it. I could kiss him forever. 

He stops before we get too carried away. "How did you know I'd pick that sandwich?" He waits impatiently as I laugh some more, until I finally manage to force out the filling of the other sandwich. "Cheese, tomato and banana? You're sick." I just smile at him, and his face softens. 

"Fox, I..." He stops and shakes his head slightly before dragging me into the bedroom. 

Thing was, at first moments like that were all I could think about. You almost had me, Alex. But then... the next day was my birthday. 

I found out what Scully and the Gunmen had been whispering about for weeks. They'd found this old drive-in cinema, playing "Creatures from planet X", and "The neihbours ate my husband" as a double feature. Frohike managed to get Scully to sit with him in the front of her car, and Byers and me were in the front of mine. Langly was relegated to the back seat and complained throughout the entire feature. Then we went to possibly the worst pizza place the state has to offer, and followed that with far too many drinks. It was the best night I can remember having in a long time. 

And I didn't think of you once. 

That is despite the fact that I spent my entire last birthday in bed. I hadn't left it in about a week, except to go to the bathroom. I hadn't eaten, hadn't slept... I hurt so much. I felt like I couldn't breathe, didn't want to breathe anymore because I couldn't smell you on my pillow. 

It was Scully that eventually found me. I was running a fever, and all I could do was call out your name. I was so ungrateful to her for looking after me, when her only fault was not being you. 

That is what I've forced myself to remember. The mind-numbing pain that was the only thing you left me with when you walked out. The nightmares, the sleepless nights... the times when I thought the only solution would be to kill myself. 

Getting over you was the hardest thing I have ever had to do. And I can't do it again. I know you, Alex. And I know that you can't handle anything more than what we had before- why else would you leave me? And I know that I wouldn't survive you leaving again. Because that is what would inevitably happen. And I'm so angry that you didn't know, that you couldn't see what you meant to me. 

Maybe you did. 

Maybe you just didn't care. 

And now you climb slowly to your feet, the red roses you brought scattered on my floor, along with the blood from your lip. I try to keep my face expressionless as you look at me with pain so evident in your beautiful eyes. And I hate to hurt you like this... but I can't let you know how much this is killing me. 

I can't let you hurt me again. 

So I don't yell at you, don't ask for explanations or apologies... Don't let you know how much I missed you. 

The tears in my eyes almost blind me, but I just smile politely and hold open the door, just watching you as you walk away without looking back. 

"Goodbye, Alex. Have a nice life." 

End 

* * *

Don't blame me, blame Ben Folds Five. This was inspired by "Selfless, Cold and Composed". 

"it's easy to be   
easy and free   
when it doesn't mean anything.   
You remain   
selfless, cold and composed   
come on baby. Now throw me   
a right to the chin   
don't just stare like   
you never cared   
I know you did   
you just smiled   
like a bank teller   
telling me blankly   
have a nice life." 

* * *

* * *

Disclaimer: They're not mine. And I have no money. So there. Please remember that I love them both too much to do any permanent damage, okay? Major thanks due to Ursula for fantastically speedy beta, and thanks to all the people who wrote to me asking for more. Feedback: . You know you want to... By the way, my dad has voluntarily eaten the sandwiches. :) 

* * *

Glow-stars: Part III   
Three Words   
by Beth 

"...What the hell am I doing here?   
I don't belong here..."   
Creep: Radiohead 

One Year Earlier 

I pull on my armour, physical and mental, to prepare myself for going back and facing my life. I hate to leave him here like this, still wrapped around a pillow with a smooth face that is no longer haunted by demons... but this could never last. We can't remain so sheltered, so happy forever. Reality will always intrude. 

But I lean down and kiss him briefly, tenderly on his smooth forehead. He has got past my defences to an extent that I had thought was impossible; especially for him. There is so much history between us, so many reasons why this should not happen, can not happen; but he makes me feel so safe. And that scares me more than anything else could. 

So I walk out while I still can, and pray that he will still be here for me when I return, that he won't turn his back and walk away. And I turn at the door and whisper four words to the sleeping man who has so quickly become my life. 

"I love you, Alex." 

* * *

Green eyes opened as the front door clicked closed; and he buried his face in the pillow he was clutching, smelling the musky scent of his lover as a silent flood poured from his eyes. 

So the time had come. 

When Mulder returned there must be no evidence that the apartment had been home to another for a time, no slight clue of how to find him. It was too dangerous to Mulder for him to remain here... at least he still had the X-files, still had Scully. Mulder would survive this, as he had survived so much before, but Alex felt like he was being torn apart inside. 

And as much as he cherished the memory of those four words, as much as he wished they were true, he hoped and prayed that Mulder had known he was awake, had only been saying what he thought Alex wanted to hear. 

Because he didn't want this to be as hard on his lover as it would be on himself. 

He dressed quickly and gathered up his few possessions and nothing else, no matter how tempted he was to take a memento. He didn't leave a note. He wouldn't call. He would just disappear exactly as he had so many times before and pray that he could forget. 

I love you. 

"Alex. How nice to see you again." 

He fought against the urge to flinch away from the familiar cultured voice, and instead retreated behind the expressionless mask that fit him so well. Only twin green fires exposed the hatred he felt, and the Englishman seemed almost amused by the loathing in his eyes. 

"I am glad to see that you have not allowed time to alter you, Alex; I despise change." The chair moved soundlessly forward, and Alex could not prevent his mouth from twisting into a feral smile as the extent of the damage was revealed. 

Most of the burns were concealed by his expensive suit, but the left side of his face looked oddly soft and shone waxily in the dim light of the antique lamp. Leather gloves covered his hands, but he had chosen not to disguise that the left leg was missing below the knee. As Alex met a cold gaze again the old man nodded once, acknowledging a worthy opponent, even as his eyes promised vengeance. No one had ever proved that it had been Alex that was responsible for the faulty timer; but they both knew the score he had had to settle. 

"You have come to ask a favour, I believe." 

"Not a favour. A deal." Krycek's voice had lost all traces of warmth and reverted to the husky, emotionless tone it had always held when dealing with this man- another of his defences. It was amazing how easy it was to fall back into the role they had forced him to create. And each time it was a little harder to convince himself that it wasn't the real him. 

"You believe that you have something that I want?" His voice held affected surprise, and Alex's hand itched to reach for the gun concealed in the waistband of his jeans. 

"Something you need." 

"Indeed? And what could you possibly offer me?" The patronising tone was familiar, and his skin crawled at the sound of it. He tried to dismiss the images, the memories playing through his head, and in the next instant he was looking at well-disguised fear in the other man's eyes as he pushed a gun against his wrinkled forehead. 

"Your life, in return for mine." 

The old man's voice was steady as he replied, and Alex almost admired him for it. "You have never been able to kill me before. What makes you believe that this will be any different?" 

"This time I have something to fight for. My offer is simple. For one year, you will have unlimited access to my services." He tried not to shudder; "however you wish to use them. After that period, you will allow me to walk away, and you will never come after me. I have very little patience for those that try to kill me. 

In return, I will let you live. And I will leave you in peace. I will never reveal any of the information that I have on you, or on the others that you work with. I will disappear from your life forever, and you will never hear from me again... on the other hand, I would just as soon squeeze this trigger. Your choice." 

The other man blinked rapidly, and Alex took this show of unease as a personal victory. 

"I agree to the terms. As to your undisputed array of talents... I'll make a start now." He smiled distantly as Alex dropped to his knees and deftly opened the suit pants. And Alex tried desperately to recall why he was doing this, and a galaxy of stars and four whispered words banished the long-buried memories that were trying to surface. 

* * *

He killed twenty seven people, two of them children, and he never wrote. 

He stole, he lied, he whored himself to anyone with something of value to the man that owned his life, and he never called. 

And every night he took the wrinkled cock up his ass, down his throat, and he never forgot. His memories were all that kept him sane. 

* * *

And then it was over. There was no fanfare, no ceremony, just a duffel bag over his shoulder and a gun in his waistband... and eyes with the shadows almost entirely gone and a strange new fear in their place. It hadn't been easy- new scars marked him, many crossing the old on his legs- but he still couldn't believe that it was over. He still didn't feel clean. 

So for a month he only watched. He stayed in the shadows, not making his presence known; testing once for a reaction and leaving an unspoken promise for Mulder to find. 

And then the roses. 

And then tonight. 

He wiped a hand across his sore mouth again and smiled ruefully at the red that stained it when he took it away from his tender lip. This wasn't over, no matter what Mulder said. That punch was not the work of an indifferent man. And as he left the building he was so distracted with planning the next assault that he didn't notice the men... until he was held between them with a gun pointed at his head. 

The Englishman cocked an eyebrow at Alex's swollen lip and tutted softly. "It didn't go according to plan, Alex? Perhaps I can do something to help." 

* * *

I responded automatically to the familiar sound of a gunshot and grabbed my own weapon, barely noticing the freezing metal of the fire escape burning my bare feet as I raced downward. Of the shooters there was no sign other than a scent of burning rubber, but there was a dark heap crumpled in a slowly spreading pool of blood... and my head was shaking in denial even as I knelt by his side, looking into fear-filled green eyes as he struggled to speak. 

And I barely heard the three words before long black lashes rested on pale cheeks and I screamed hoarsely for help, for an ambulance, for anything that would change this. 

I love you. 

End, for now. 

* * *

* * *

Disclaimer: They aren't mine. They just like me better than him. Series- Part 4 of Glow stars- the end. Spoilers: um... as usual, Tunguska didn't happen. Thanks to Ursula as usual, for being a fantastic beta and putting up with me, and for advising against my poor first effort at this. Also thanks to everyone who has sent me feedback, ever. :) I need feedback like a fairy needs applause. Please? thanks. 

* * *

Glow-stars: Part IV   
Begin again   
by Beth 

Sometimes I miss Alex. 

I try not to think of him anymore, because memories of him... of green eyes dark with lust, the feel of him inside me, the soft smile when he woke 

his blood pooling on the pavement 

I felt empty. Hollow. 

He was part of my old life, and I guess it's just easier to forget. Not everything- I still see Scully and the gunmen, and last week, Skinner came over, a bottle of wine gripped in one big hand and looking more uncomfortable in jeans and a polo shirt than I'd ever seen him in a suit. I guess it could have been something to do with the company- he's tolerant at best... and Tom doesn't like to think about the past. 

Neither do I. 

I held him in the alley until the ambulance arrived, stroking his hair and murmuring soothing nonsense; telling him how much I loved him. I whispered to him the things I was going to do to him as soon as he got home, how I was going to make for being such an asshole... All the time his face got paler and paler until it seemed to glow with an inner light, until it was all I could see. 

I kissed away the tears that fell from my face onto his. 

But I didn't pray. To pray, to turn to something that scared me so much...that would be like admitting to myself that he could die. Like committing him to death in my own mind. Like admitting defeat. 

And then the paramedics were there. And they were pulling him away from me, strapping him to a trolley and pushing him into the ambulance. One of them stopped me from climbing in after, saying that there was no room, that I could meet them at the hospital... There was a man in the ambulance with my Alex, a man who sat in a wheelchair and whose face shone waxily in the orange streetlights. 

And I felt so angry that he would be allowed to stay with him when I couldn't... but I could only watch futilely as they slammed the door behind the man I loved. 

And when I got to the hospital, they told me it was too late. 

"Fox?" 

The soft voice startles me, and I look up, smiling into shadowed eyes and receiving a shy grin in return. Then he looks down, shifting and turning away slightly, clearing his throat. He's still not quite comfortable with me... and after what he's been through I guess it shouldn't surprise me. I just wish he could open up to me, be the man I know he is inside. 

I met him when I was visiting Alex's grave. And it scared me how easy I found it to accept. I still feel off balance when I look sat him, amazed at the complete turnaround of my feelings... he's so beautiful. 

But he's not Alex. 

He's sweet, and considerate, a wonder in the kitchen and God, did I need that; he depends on me. He needs me. And I won't say that I don't like that. No one's needed me for so long, not since... not since my sister. 

But sometimes I want the smell of leather and gunsmoke, and that little spark of fear that thrilled through me when Alex looked at me with green flames dancing in his eyes. I feel like such a traitor, but... God, I'm frustrated. 

I deliberately slow my breathing and will my cock to behave. He's not... we've been living together for a month now, and we haven't... I'll wait until he's ready. I love him. Besides, Scully will be here any minute and if I don't calm down I won't even be able to stand up to answer the door. I concentrate on the delicious smells from the kitchen and follow my nose, my stomach rumbling. 

"Need a hand?" and then my brain hears what I've just said and I wince at my choice of words. "Sorry. Uh..." But I don't think he's listening to me. His eyes are focussed on the still very visible bulge in my trousers. A pink tongue flicks out to wet his lips and he sends me a smouldering look from beneath dark eyelashes. 

The look sends a bolt of pain through me. It's so much like Alex- and no matter how hard I try, this isn't enough. His eyes widen in concern and he comes closer and brushes his hand softly against my cheek... but I can't deal with this. Tears blur my view of his face and I am relieved when the doorbell rings. 

She smiles at me and gives me a hug, stroking my back softly but knowing better than to say anything- a kind word at this point and my mask would shatter. Then her smile becomes brittle, cold, and she nods over my shoulder. 

"Tom." 

I reach backwards and he weaves his fingers through mine. I squeeze his hand slightly and look back at him, wordlessly telling him that I'm sorry. And he smiles and moves silently into the kitchen, leaving us to talk. And as much as I appreciate it... Alex would have stayed here with me; getting Scully's back up with his wicked sense of humour, but here. 

* * *

The meal was excellent, and he actually joined in the conversation, making Scully laugh with his wicked sense of humour. And once, when he was laughing- not the polite smile he generally wears but an actual genuine laugh- she sent me this half amused, half surprised look that told me she was starting to like him. When she offered to help him clear the table he didn't bristle, or snap, or go silent; he smiled, thanked her, and accepted her help. 

That threw me. 

He resents the implication that he can't do things for himself. He lets me help him sometimes, grudgingly- he loves me enough to know it's not pity, to trust me with his weakness- but he gets angry with anyone else. When I could hear them laughing together in the kitchen it was like a load had slipped off my shoulders that I didn't even know was there. 

When they were done, Scully took the chair and he sat next to me, leaning his head against my side and purring softly as I stroked his dark hair. Scully caught my eye and mouthed "progress!" at me before yawning loudly and saying she could see herself out. I smiled my thanks at her- he rarely touched me and I didn't want to spoil this. She winked and said she'd call me. I love her. The woman is a saint. 

We sat there for about an hour, and it felt great. He wasn't tense, he was even smiling... and then I noticed his hand. It was resting quite innocently on my leg, and I'm sure he didn't even realise it was there. But once I noticed I was lost. I froze and breathed shallowly, trying desperately to keep my tenuous grip on sanity, on the knowledge that jumping him would not be a good idea. I thought I pulled it off, too, but then he turned his head and looked up at me... 

I moaned as his soft lips parted under mine, and the familiar taste sent a jolt of heat direct to my cock. He arched up into the kiss, moaning faintly as his tongue met mine. I was so lost in the sensation that I didn't even think where my hand was going until I felt the line where scarred flesh met rigid plastic and he was pulling away, eyes almost black and face flushed. He stood up and said he was going to bed and I closed my eyes, unable to watch him walk away from me again. 

"Come with me?" 

I blinked up at him, sure I must have misheard; but when I saw his eyes sparkling and the shy smile that curved his beautiful mouth I couldn't stop a matching smile from spreading across my face. He held out his hand for mine, and as I grasped it he pulled me upright and back against him for another kiss. I sometimes forget how strong he is. 

When we broke apart again we were both panting, and a matching hardness pressed insistently against my erection. 

"Are you sure?" 

Then he gave me that wicked look- the one that made my cock even harder and sent adrenaline rushing through me- and pulled me into the bedroom. And his mouth was bruising and tender, teasing and soft, and he whispered how much he wanted me. And the husky words made me gasp and press myself against him, almost frantic with need. 

He pushed me away, and I couldn't hold in the small whimper of distress- but he just yanked my shirt over my head and then pulled me close again. And I was so sensitive that even though the soft cotton of his T-shirt against my nipples was too mcu for me, and I pushed my hands under it and tried to ease it off over his head. He stiffened and pulled away. 

"Leave it." 

He wouldn't look at me. And he flinched away when I touched his left shoulder. 

"Tom... it doesn't matter, babe. You're beautiful. Nothing could change that..." my voice soothing him, I stepped closer and stroked his cheek, his eyebrows, his lips. I kissed him again, tenderly, trying to show him how much he meant to me in a way that he would believe. And he sighed and stepped back, letting me skim off his T-shirt and unbuckle his prosthesis, laying it gently on the dresser. 

The feel of satiny skin on mine, the muscles in his back under my fingertips, rough stubble against my throat... he was everywhere at once, a source of heat that was setting me on fire. Moans and whispered curses fell from my lips, and when his hand circled my cock... Jesus. I arched against him and could feel his smile against the skin of my throat. He kissed me there, sucking hard and marking me as his. My knees almost gave way and I leaned against him, then collapsing bonelessly as he pushed me onto the bed. 

And a moment later, he lay next to me. 

and tenderly brushes the hair away from my forehead, can feel his breath gently fanning across my face 

Tom leans closer to kiss me again. And I run my fingers through his soft hair and hold his head to mine, licking gently across his lips and kissing him softly in case my sheer need scares him away 

But he won't let me take control- and frustrated as I am, part of me is glad of that. 

He deepens the kiss, running his hand down between us until it surrounds my cock again and I am aching for him, desperate but willing to wait for him, 

I am naked and trembling so hard that I feel like I'll fall apart- not to mention 

I'm more turned on than I have ever been in my life. And then he moves downward and licks and sucks at my nipple and the sensation is incredible... I cry out as he plays with it for a while, nipping and licking and sucking at it before moving on to the other one. 

I am incoherent as he moves lower... I hear the sounds coming from my mouth but I am distanced from them 

I am focussed completely on the feelings he is arousing in me. His soft mouth on my skin is all that I have dreamed about for as long as I have known him. 

And then all the breath leaves my lungs as his tongue touches my cock. 

He gently flutters his tongue along the vein on the underside of my cock 

before taking the head into his mouth 

and the slick warmth surrounding me makes me cry out again... 

And words are no longer necessary. He prepares my cock and sinks slowly down on it, the look of pure bliss on his face transfixing me with its feral beauty. 

And then all thoughts are driven from my head as he slowly starts to move. The tight velvet heat gripping me and the sound of his moans as my cock hits his prostate combine to bring me to the brink of orgasm- but I hold it off as I pump his cock, wanting him to share this moment with me. 

Then his muscles contract and we tumble over the edge together. 

"Alex!" 

He freezes and rolls off me, his arm covering his face. And I can't believe that I've managed to screw up something that feels so right... 

And then he turns towards me, tears making his green eyes turn turquoise, and he smiles at me. 

"God, Fox... I've missed you." 

And I pull him to me, holding him tightly for the first time in a lifetime, and he is Alex again. For a month he has been Tom Alexander- he has the papers to prove it. But I lost something when he disappeared, and I never felt I got it back. Tom was loving, and considerate... and Alex was the man I loved. And now I can have them both, lying next to me in my bed. 

He leans over and switches off the lamp, coming instantly back to me and nestling into my side. And silent tears fall from my eyes into his soft dark hair as I stare at the glow stars that cover my ceiling. 

And I know that I don't have to forget anything, or sacrifice anything- I can be happy again. 

End. 

* * *

Didn't I say it'd end well? :) 

* * *

If you enjoyed this story, please send feedback to Beth 


End file.
